#a fool’s golden cage

[neverfearforiamhere]

It’s mai boi!!! (I’m slowly dying from finals week but wanted to draw Lure, so here ya go!)

[mable-stitchpunk]

Hey, guys! If anyone was thinking of getting A Fool's Golden Cage, the sequel to A Fool's Endeavor, I'm doing a free book promotion between May 24th 12:00AM and May 28th 11:59PM. It'll be free on Kindle!

[autumn-elwood]

;) List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you to get to know your mutuals and followers.

1. Podcasts (currently listening to The Magnus Archives and Welcome to Night Vale)

2. Books (currently reading A Fool's Golden Cage by Janetje Amabilis)

3. Chicken Nuggets

4. Libraries

5. Stuffed Animals

[marisol-000]

Just occured to me I never shared my Fools Endeavor Modern Au

.

The king and queen (instead of being king and queen) are famous rich people.

The king is a big buissnessman. And the Queen was a beloved celeberty.

The king is busy with work all the time, so after the queen died he hired Vivianne a babysitter, Lure.

.

Elia is her live-in maid, but is getting on in years and can't keep up with a child as young as her.

Lure takes her places and plays with her, sometimes let's her try his skateboard.

.

Morrick is a bodyguard whos just been stationed with the princess. And is all uptight about her safety. (He means well and all but bike riding and fast food wont kill her)

Coffcord is her doctor and Basalm is his nurse. Baslam and Lure are friends :).

Yves is a avian veteran in the same building as them.

[invictarre-archive]

time to re-paste my tags and tag everything I’ve been getting lazy with  :))))))))

can’t wait for these to get deleted !!!!!!!!!!

[yanderestarangel]

HEADKANONS | JOHNNY CAGE MK1 WITH S/O

A/N: Yes, he's my favorite, please make requests for me with this man, I need ideas, I need requests- I'm obsessed for him. Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post.

TW: sfw, smut, fluff, sex, sexual positions, afab reader, pet names, vaginal sex, oral m!re. | f!re |, degradation, daddykink.

SFW:

Johnny Cage is the typical golden retriever boyfriend, he will want your attention because we know he is an attention slut, not only applies to his fans but also to you, you need to keep in mind that when Johnny wants your attention, He'll get it one way or another, whether it's sending you countless messages, asking you for affection, or even begging you to stay with him, if you're the type to get angry and punish him with silence, he'll be very upset. bad, even becoming physically ill.

He loves being emotionally pampered, a lot of cuddling with him with his head in your lap, while the two of you watch a movie together in the living room of his mansion, while you massage his scalp and the light brown locks of his silky hair, he would be happy. smiling like a fool in love - which he is - even if you pointed it out, he would deny it with some typical joke of his, if you threaten to leave his side or stop making out with him he will pout and complain, a lot.

He also likes tight arms just enjoying the silence between the two of you, chaste kisses on his forehead or cheek are welcome, especially if you wear lipstick or gloss, he will smile sideways and run his fingers through the warm residue on your lips on his skin.

Johnny likes to show you on all his social networks, always taking selfies with you and posting them, stories talking to his fans but always with you by his side, he loves sharing some couple story about the two of you so that everyone can laugh at such a situation that you passed by, like the time he got the location of the award show he was going to wrong and you had to walk a long way to get to the right place, with Johnny carrying you on his back obviously, he wasn't going to make his beautiful S/O walk. If you're the shy type, he'll push you a little, not because he's mean, but because he wants to show you to the world, show the person who makes Johnny Cage happy, but if you still don't want to, he'll respect your decision, Even if it upsets him a little at first, he will still take photos of you and the two of you together, with various filters, from the cute ones to the most cursed ones he finds.

The two of you have a YouTube and Twitch channel together, he already had a channel so now you are a regular guest, after all you date him. Johnny loves just chatting in chat, or reacting to some edits and fanarts that his fans make of him live, he always thanks everyone and is satisfied, from the most amateur to the most professional, everyone is valid and valuable from Cage's perspective , and he also loves the edits with the photo and video of you as a couple, with you and him thanking you for your affection, he leaves the @'s of the editors and designers, encouraging their growth. In the lives it also happens that Johnny plays some games with you, his favorite is the horror genre, he loves seeing your reactions because you feel tense around him and the chat, he sits on a black gaming chair in the center of the camera and you or in the background or on his side - it's your choice - he also gets scared very easily so you can take advantage and poke his shoulder or arm during a tense moment in the gameplay, he'll jump and scream from his chair like a scared kitten while letting out a series of swear words - he may or may not have let his glasses fall to the floor and break one of those times.

Johnny lets you wear his clothes, he's very stylish, if there's something you like, you can wear it, he has enough money to buy a new and identical piece, but obviously there are clothes that he's more zealous and jealous of, he He'll even let you use it if you tell him you'll be careful, if you tear it or get it dirty, he won't do anything other than sigh and get irritated for a few hours, then go buy a piece like the old one and pretend nothing happened.

He also loves that you make him breakfast, he loves his food, his seasoning, the smell of warm food makes Johnny wake up in bed with a satisfied smile, seeing you in his kitchen, preparing everything for him, that's it. it also made his ego rise, but in a good way after all he has you in his life and no Hollywood award compares to having you as his partner, he comes up behind you and while hugging you, giving you a kiss on the head and smelling you, even though he's drowsy, he wants to be there with you, watching you make his breakfast with such care - Cage also whispers in a hoarse and low voice how much he loves you, thanking you for being so helpful to him and that will reward you later however you want -

The two of you play 'just dance' together, Johnny knows practically all the choreographies and makes you dance with him, whether you're good or bad at dancing, what matters to him is that you just have fun with him, and he's great at dancing, knowing move the hips extremely well and being very elastic.

Johnny loves sending you memes, posts, songs, everything he sees and remembers about you he will send you immediately, Johnny is the type who has a gallery full of memes that he never sent because he forgot, he is the type who sends more than +99 reels in less than 10 minutes, so if you two have been chatting don't be surprised if you get distracted and have more than 60 videos in your dm, each with a caption and context from Cage:

"I remembered you."

"LMAO you that day (Y/N)"

"That song is the one you like, isn't it?"

"lol that's so me"

"That food looks delicious, can we make it later?"

"pookie wookie"

"This film appears a lot in my fy, let's see it this weekend"

"Am I bbg in this edit?"

He also uses a lot of emoji and stickers to communicate, with chibi versions of himself often in his chat to show his emotions, he uses emojis to Seriously, then get used to using them.

He also uses a lot of emoji and stickers to communicate, with chibi versions of himself often in his chat to show his emotions, he uses emojis to Seriously, then get used to using them.

The two of you have a typical mean girls night together, with skincare, hair moisturizing, movies together and gossiping together, Johnny doesn't mind if you want to try makeup on him, or paint his nails - as long as it's black and he's not in No acting roles at the moment - he accepts it willingly, and he even likes it when you do eyeliner on him - he looks even more handsome, believe me. -

Loves to pamper you materially! Johnny is the type that if he sees that you are looking too much at a certain product in a store, he will pull you and enter the place, calling the salesperson immediately and buying everything you want, and I guarantee you, he knows exactly when you want something. or when you're lying that you don't want to because you're embarrassed, if you lie and try to say that you didn't want to, Johnny will get serious and immediately take the most expensive products in the store for you, as a form of "punishment" for lying to him. He will be able to take you to the concert of your favorite band or singer when he is off work as a Hollywood star or he will hire the singer/band you want to do a private show at his mansion, nothing is too expensive or impossible for Johnny Cage.

He loves romantic nights with you. Johnny will put on a fancy suit, hire a good buffet for a candlelit dinner with you, something he does practically every weekend, it has become a couple's tradition in your relationship. A good dinner and expensive wine, to end the night with the lights of the Cage mansion partially turned off, with you and Johnny in the large marble area, the only light was from the moon that entered through the large video window, with the song: "You rock my world - Michael Jackson" playing in the background, on the speakers of the luxurious room, with the two of you pressed against each other, just singing while dancing intertwined in a heat of passion and love. - Johnny loves this song because he says it sums up what you did in his life, you rocked his world in a way that he can only thank you internally for being the love of his life, and being the person he can count on always, even though he is sometimes too arrogant and proud to admit it, he always says: "-This song sums up what I feel and have always felt about you honey." -It's his way of saying he loves you, when he can't say it directly.

He hates to show it, but he is extremely insecure, after the separation from his ex-wife - Cris - he always asks you if you still love him or if you will leave him one day, this insecurity causes some jealous attacks when you go out, doesn't it? nothing serious, just Johnny sulking and asking you why you're so different with him - which you weren't - just make this man sure of your relationship, holding his arm or hand when you go out helps a lot, with him smiling stupidly in the corner because you're proud to be dating him, after all who wouldn't be? he is Johnny Cage after all.

He's extremely intelligent, so he'll love rambling about everything about you, movies, art, history, everything. He will talk about several topics at the same time, while his head is in your lap.

NSFW:

Recorded sex: He carries that stupid phone of his 24 hours a day, that is, this also applies to sex, he will fuck you practically making a movie every time, recording in HD all your reactions and how you fit your body to his so well , moans, juices of lust, your face salivating with pleasure, the nicknames, the dirtiest things, all recorded and saved in a folder with a password on his cell phone. He uses the videos to masturbate when he is traveling to direct a film as a director, he becomes needy and needs you by his side, having to settle for the homemade porn videos that the two of you make together, your pussy jumping on his dick in the video, his body, his reactions, as he whimpered, fucking his own dick in his hand, writhing on the hotel bed he was in.

Sex on the phone: Well, when the porn videos you made, he will call you, begging you to masturbate on call with him, either just vocally, or on video call, or exchanging nudes while the two of you did it.

"-Come for me. Show me how much you want my cock, how much you need me to fill you like the submissive whore you are."

Daddykink: Self Explanatory, he loves being called daddy by you, he himself has a habit of calling himself daddy in random situations, with an arrogant air. "-Leave it to Daddy, Baby." "-Oh yes, Daddy Johnny is here to sort it out." And this applies to sex, he will fuck you while you call him Daddy or Daddy Johnny - he loves that shit, it boosts his ego like hell. -

Degradation and praise: He loves to praise you and degrade you at the same time, he also loves to be praised during sex, especially when you do the "missionary" position, while he looked at your face, fucking your pussy with greed and hunger.

"-Do you want to cum, my naughty little slut?"

"-You really want my seed to fill your pussy, don't you? You're such a dirty slut, wanting to be bred by me. You want to mark you as mine, don't you?"

"-You're nothing but a filthy whore, begging for my cock."

"-You're such a good boy/girl, taking my dick in that tight, pretty pussy, like the good slut you are."

His favorite sexual positions with you: 69, Doggy Style, Cowgirl, Reverse Cowgirl, Missionary, Scoop Me Up, The Seashell, The Pinball Wizard, Valedictorian, Table Top, The Lazy Man, The Snake, Stand and Deliver.

He also loves giving oral, he would really stay under your legs all day fucking you with his tongue if he could, in every corner of his mansion that he could, his tongue fucks you in the right spots, passing from your clitoris to the your entrance tight, his thick and firm hands keep you in place, holding the soft flesh of your hips, massaging the area in small circles with his thumb while looking into your eyes, while his mouth was too busy working for you. make you cum - maybe... Just maybe he rubs his nose on your clitoris to tease you, he has a big nose... Just maybe. -

Johnny likes blowjobs when he's angry, he likes to come home, have a good whiskey while sitting on the couch, and you between his legs, sucking him greedily, it was a relaxing sight, making Johnny remember the good things about life, you.

"-Yes fuck baby... Keep going... I really need to cum, you're my good boy/girl, sucking my dick so good."

Please squirt on this man! He loves to fuck you and make you squirt, whether with his dick, tongue, fingers or even vibrators - which you have to stimulate your pussy and his dick in some foreplay - Johnny just wants you to cum and get him all wet with your Sweet essence, the first time you squirted on him you were embarrassed, but he wasn't, he seemed to have discovered a new world, smiling like a fool.

"-Mmmm Johnny... I... Please take it off, I-" -You tried to speak between moans, while your pussy squeezed Johnny's cock more than ever, he felt something different, smiling sideways.

"-Fuck I bet that's a fucking squirt, come on, I want to see you squirt on my dick baby, this is going to be so fucking hot, just cum in that tight pussy." -Johnny says, thrusting his dick even more into your pussy, with all the strength and speed he could have in his hips at that moment, fucking you to the core, he gives a strong thrust, hitting his dick on your cervix, making you moan and squirt on his dick, abdomen and groin, dirtying him all over, while he smiled extremely happily.

"-I won't stop fucking you until you do it again baby." -He says smug with a cheesy wink, but he was serious, you were going to do that until he saw you squirt and cum like that again.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[sleepingoreo]

Short Story Rambble

I'm not posting any work this month but brainrots ideas. So busy with studies. I'll start getting to requests after everything is over. Not edited.

Sunday

You're so beautiful he had to keep your beauty in front of his eyes somehow. To be displayed for him neatly. What better way than to put you in a birdcage? To keep you in there. "Sing for me my sweet angel," He cooed, lips at the surface of the bars playing with your strands of hair through the bar of the golden cage. Beautiful just for him. He smiles at you with his angelic features.

The instrumental of the song on his vintage record player tuned music as you sang the lyrics. He hummed softly holding your hands admiring your beauty through the birdcage. Next, he'll have to figure out how to preserve your beauty for eternity. 

Aventurine

"What should I do next?"

"All in"

"Then I'm going all in," Aventurine pushes all the chips in the middle of the table. This pushes your chest against the edge of the table as you sit sweetly on his lap. His left hand on your waist, his right hand playing.

The wealthy businessmen and women starred in unease. Was this another buff from the IPC executive? Aventurine sat with a relaxed smile holding you firmly in his arms and making you sit patiently on his lap.

Everyone went all in. They seemed confident but was it enough to end his never ending winning streak? His left hand held your waist firmly as it tightened a bit. His thumb traced circles on the curve of your waist to ease his tension. He was nervous yet hid it well.

"Remember this is all just for you," He leaned over to whisper in your ears.

He revealed his cards. A royal Flush! He laughed in ecstasy grabbing all the chips for himself.

"I'll buy you anything you want after this" He whispered sweetly in your ears. He always had his charms. Even from keeping you sitting sweetly on his lap and betting on you, he'll always win. 

Jing Yuan

"If you win I'll let you leave," he smiled at you from across from the chessboard. You make another move. "Bold indeed." He smiled at you but captured your knight. Damn, he led you right in his trap.

He retained you in the Luofu you can't even leave if you wanted to! Not if every single person on the Xianzhou will be looking for you the moment you're out of Jing Yuan's glaze. But, you'll always end up back in his embrace.

Every move you made was falling into Jing Yuan's upper hand. He always knows how to lead with the chessboard.

"Checkmate," your heart dropped the moment you heard the word you feared hearing. He widens his arms for you to lean in his embrace. "Come here, my love" He pulls you in his arms.

He holds you tightly in his arms not wanting to let go. You should have known from the start you'll never win against a man with 800+ years of experience. what a fool you are for even accepting this.

"I love you," He kissed your lips.

What nickname should Aventurine call his darling I don't like using Y/N :(

I can't decide on Nicknames for characters' darling and I'm gonna do a few requests when I got time <3

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hi!! Hope everything is going well!

Could I Please ask for some bottom buggy (mayhaps with some watersports since I saw you had a interest) or some ftm crocodile being fucked into submission!

Have a nice day.

Ftm Sir Crocodile x male reader

Ficlet

I love Sir Crocodile so much 🗣️ 🗣️

Reader is part of Buggy’s crew, cuz I thought that would be hilarious. Reader doesn’t have a devil fruit, but is still super kickass. Hes kind of the information gatherer, smuggler, etc, for the Buggy crew. Reader is also normal human height.

Mixed terminology for Crocs bits. Also, breeding/pregnancy? kink warning ig. but its just mentioned for the fantasy.

The Cross Guild appeared great for any outsider or lesser in the know members, which was most of them. They all saw your captain as someone great and almost godly, thinking he was so much more than he was, but you had been with him for many years, even before the Buggy pirates had even been created. Shortly after the execution of Rogers, Buggy had stumbled into your path and had accidentally saved your life, and from then on you had been by his side.

Most people thought of you as something akin to an accountant or treasurer, wearing an outfit that looked very much like that of a ringmaster, long red tailcoat and top hat and all. You were always one of the first to run away, giving you a reputation of a coward who couldn’t fight.

The only one who truly knew how much of a threat you could be, would be your captain and his inner circle, which you were also part of. You might not have been the strongest physically compared to someone like Mihawk, but no one could gather information like you could, smuggle like you could, or have someone “disappear” like you could. Your network was so extensive that even the one they called Joker, who you knew was none other than Donquixote Doflamingo, was jealous.

That was why you knew everything about Sir Crocodile and Mihawk before the day was over when the Cross Guild was formed. You cowered off to the side, keeping up your weak act as you flinched at their raised voices or the light reflecting off Crocodiles golden claw.

They believed you a weak fool who’s only worth was your quick mind and ability to calculate numbers quicker than most computers, which resulted in them mostly dismissing you. It was a role you basked in and felt comfortable, using it to keep your true identity under wraps. That was until they pushed your captain too far, as Crocodile especially seemed to take great pleasure in antagonizing and hurting your captain.

You were protective, most pirates were, if they felt any sense of loyalty to their captain. It was because of that, that you dug up a trusted contact, a celestial dragon with greater access to seastone than anyone else you knew. Using measurements from the moment’s clothes had to be made, a pair of cuffs in just the perfect size soon arrived to you with the post.

It was easy to press Crocodiles buttons, to get him worked up by acting stupid and pathetic, just the way you knew made his blood boil. It was even easier to enrage him so far that he chased after you, so blinded by his anger that he didn’t even notice how you kept avoiding his sand, or how you were leading him further and further away from the rest of the guild.

When he finally caught up, Crocodile caged you against the wall, hook digging into the drywall as he almost snarled down at you, cigar crunched between his teeth as his purple eyes blazed. But mild confusion crossed his face as your fearful expression dropped, his body straightening as your eyes met his head on. Before Crocodile could order an explanation, a feeling of weakness crashed through his body, making his knees buckle enough that you had to catch him, supporting his towering weight and bulk.

His vision swam as you started dragging him along, his feet dragging along the floor because of his height compared to your own. Crocodile felt dizzy and mildly nauseous, his eyes finally catching the heavy bands around his wrist, the one he still had left. “ssseastone?” he slurred out, voice lighter than the growl you were used too, cigar long forgotten somewhere along the journey.

In the beginning, you had planned on torturing him, the blades strapped to your person burning at the thought, but as you threw him down almost carelessly on a barely clad bed, a different through passed through your mind.

A slight thrill ran down your spine as his purple eyes burnt into you, his usual anger still present, but mixed with something else, something deeper and hungrier. Soft pants left Crocodiles lips, sounding faintly struggled as the seastone drained the power from his body, leaving him limp and pliant.

You could see the heat rising to Crocodiles cheekbones as you started stripping off your usual getup, tailcoat slid off your shoulders and neatly folded, top hat placed down with care. “What the hell are you doing…” Crocodile rasped from the bed, his pupils blown as an unfamiliar need unfolded inside him, the familiar thrum of pleasure running through body.

Maybe it was his weakened state, but he swore his cunt was pulsing with need, especially as you unbuttoned the stark white shirt you always wore, revealing a tightly muscled and heavily scarred body underneath, leather straps adorned with vials and weapons stretched across your torso.

Crocodile tried to shuffle his legs, maybe to squeeze his thighs together, or to spread them further apart, he wasn’t sure, but all he could do was a minimal twitch and jolt. “I planned on cutting you up, making you beg for mercy. But from the looks of it… you wouldn’t mind some other kind of discipline” you murmur, almost stalking towards him where Crocodile was splayed out on top of the white sheets.

You could see all his muscles tense as you let your hands climb up his legs, up his thighs and stomach, traveling all the way up his arms towards his hook. A choked off noise leaves Crocodile as you remove his hook with ease, like you had done it a thousand times before, placing it off to the side with care.

“Behave yourself” you tell him, squeezing the sides of his jaw to make his lips part. Crocodile tried to growl or snap a threat, to snap his teeth at you or somehow fight back, but his body was mostly unresponsive, his tongue feeling thick and useless in his mouth.

A shiver of anticipation ran through Crocodile as you moved again, settling between his thick spread thighs. Your eyes met as you reach for his belt, your brow lifting as if asking if he wanted you to stop. You may be a pirate, but you had class and manners, at least when it came to stuff like this.

But when all Crocodile responded with was a sour expression and glare, you make easy work of his belt and slacks, tugging them down his hips and legs, throwing them off to the side with little care. Your disregard for his clothes made Crocodile grumble, but the noise was quickly silenced as you pressed your entire hand against his slick underwear, fingers teasing his hard t-cock and soaked folds.

“Tsk tsk, look at you, bet you just need someone to put you in your place, is that it?” you mumble in an almost mocking tone, looking up at him with an almost feral hunger in your eyes. Crocodile chokes on the words that want to form in his throat, some kind of rebuttal perhaps, that he would never want someone as low as you to do anything to him, but as you pinch his cock between your fingers, it morphs into a shaky moan.

Crocodile’s boxers as easily pulled off, thrown to the floor with a damp plap, making his face redden further as you only find amusement in the obvious sign of his arousal. Kicking off your pants and boxers, you crawl up the bed and sit between his thick thighs, pushing them further apart to expose where he only grows slicker, hole clenching around nothing as if begging you to fill it.

“What would they say, seeing the great Sir Crocodile, spread out like this, ready to take the cock of a feeble weak treasurer” you taunt, pressing your hips closer to his, so that you could drag the tip of your cock up and down through his folds. The act has Crocodile arching as good as he can with the cuff on, his eyes squeezing shut as he clenches his jaw, a breathy noise leaving him, folds only growing slicker around you.

Maybe it was your size difference, with you being average human size, compared to Crocodiles almost 9 feet, or maybe it was his gut deep arousal, but his hole didn’t need much prep for you to be able to fit inside.

That didn’t mean you were just gonna give it to him, since this was supposed to be a lesson. A stuttery moan spills almost silently from Crocodiles lips as your fingers rub through his folds, barely pressing against where he wants you the most. He had never imagined himself in a situation like this, splayed out and dripping for you, someone he had always just seen as a nuisance, but here he was.

“Come on Crocodile… ask nicely” your tone is almost cruel as you push only two fingers inside him, barely felt because of his size, but just enough to rub against his wet gummy insides and leave him aching for more. Crocodiles jaw clenches, barring his teeth as his head weakly rolls to the side, as if to hide his face into the sheets.

“Or… I could just leave you here, thighs spread open, cunt glistening with want. Im sure someone will pass by, and who wouldn’t want a chance to fill this” as if to exaggerate your point, you push two more fingers into his slick hole, burying them as deep as possible into Crocodiles wet insides, punching a gasp out of him.

Crocodile seems to debate it, if he wants to put his pride aside for someone like you, but his thoughtprocess is knocked off course as you pinch his cock with your free hand, twisting it cruelly. Had he not been wearing the seastone cuff, his thighs would have clamped shut and a shout would have left him, but now all his body could do was tense up as a wet keen tumbled out of him.

“P…please” Crocodile finally mumbles, voice small and almost shy, but it can barely be heard over the wet slick sounds of your fingers thrusting in and out of him, his wetness running down your palm and wrist in the process.

“Hm?” you hum, the questioning tone in it clear, as if you didn’t hear him at all, giving his cock another twist just because you could. “fuck me… please…” is gasped out, Crocodiles insides clenching around your slick fingers as they rub and prod around inside him.

Your fingers movements slow to a stop, silence filling the room long enough for Crocodile to peek an eye open and look down at you. Your eyes are intense as they bore into his, the predatory flare in them making Crocodiles insides quiver. “Normally id demand better than that, but I’m starting to pity you” you scoff out, withdrawing your fingers from his hold with a slick noise.

Instead of wiping them off on the sheets, you use the large amount of slick that had gathered in your palm to slick up your shaft, releasing a huffed exhale as Crocodiles eyes widen at the sight. “I’ve thought about making you ride me, so you’ll have to make yourself take it, but we can’t do that right now, can we” you eye the cuff around his one wrist, making Crocodile growl and spit out a weak warbled “fuck you”

His insult carries no heat, clearly only for show, his glare quickly wiped off his face as you finally push inside him. Crocodile needs little time to adjust, resulting in you almost immediately setting a bruising rough pace, drawing in and out of him with loud wet slick noises, his hole gripping onto you as he gasps and moans.

Reaching down, you push his shirt up just enough to splay a hand across his lower stomach, a foxlike grin spreading across your lips as you watch his hips weakly roll into your own. “If you weren’t such an asshole, I could fuck you whenever. Imagine that Crocodile, walking around, cunt leaking my cum, as you try to play tough.” You chuckle darkly, tone thick and hungry in the way only a predatory animal could possess.

As your cock rams into that sensitive spot inside him, Crocodile is finally starting to realize you are truly more than you seem, his cunt drooling a wet puddle under him on the sheets as you take him with a new hunger, a glint appearing in your eyes as your hand presses down harder on his stomach.

“I could knock you up you know, right here.” Is hissed out as you bottom out inside Crocodile, the words making him tighten up and shiver in want. “No one would find you so scary then, would they Crocodile. Waddling around, fat with my kid” you purr, letting both your hands splay across his stomach. It was all fantasy, but by God did it make Crocodile wet and wanting. Something about the fantasy of you, some lesser subordinate knocking him, Sir Crocodile, up, had him seeing double.

The seastone didn’t help with his woozy state, all attempts at forming words only becoming half formed and slurred, Crocodiles eyes going wet and glassy as that familiar feeling spread through his body. “in… inside me…” Crocodile slurs as you curse to yourself, clearly close to the finish line as well. Had it not been for the cuffs, he would have thrown his legs around you, squeezing you against his body to keep you inside him, but all he could do now was beg.

Crocodiles pride crumbled as your fingers squeezed his cock one last time, a pure orgasmic expression crossing his face as he gasped and moaned, his entire body twitching weakly as he came, wetting your cock and the sheets even further as the feeling thrummed through his entire body.

With a deep groan you bottom out inside Crocodile for a last time, letting your eyes squeeze shut as you spill inside him, coating his insides in a thick coat of white. Crocodile whimpers weakly at the feeling, trying to squeeze around you as if to milk your length for more.

He slumps against the sheets further than he already is, eyes falling shut in a relaxed exhausted expression. Crocodile barely notices as you pull out, white leaking out from between his folds to join his own mess on the sheets. He barely even notices you cleaning him up, only twitching and gasping softly when you clean up between his legs.

Its only when the seastone cuff leaves his wrist that Crocodile returns to himself somewhat, as the familiar feeling of his devilfruit washes through his body again. Squinting his eyes open, he catches sight of you getting dressed again, tucking on your shirt, then your coat, and lastly placing your hat on top of your head.

Even with his devilfruit returned to him, Crocodile still feels weak and exhausted, but the good type of exhausted one only gets after a good fuck. Part of him wants to ask you to stay, to hold him and pet his hair, to maybe mumble more dirty fantasies about knocking him up, and how you’d make him live as your pretty little housewife. But instead, Crocodile just grunts to get your attention, his attempt to demand to know where you are going.

“I have to get back to the others, since ill be taking over your duties for the rest of the day and tomorrow” you say, voice resolute and not allowing any denial or struggle. And normally Crocodile would have growled and rejected anyone taking over his duties, but for some reason, the idea of you taking care of him made him relax deeper into the bed, muscles lax and thoughts empty and calm for once.

Approaching him, you press a soft kiss to his forehead before telling him “this room is hidden away from everyone else, so take all the time you need. Ill check up on you later” as you pat his cheek. After telling him where the bathroom is, where he could find towels and replacement sheets and blankets, you were on your way, leaving Crocodile on his lonesome.

It took a while, but he finally pushed himself into a seated position before getting to his feet. The feeling of your cum trickling down the insides of his thighs as the familiar heat of arousal burning inside him once more, making Crocodile shuffle towards the bathroom you had pointed him towards. Even though you had just left, he could still get himself off a few more times from just the memory alone.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be disciplined by you, he wondered how you’d react if he caused issues with your smuggling routes. The idea sent a line of heat up his spine as he stepped into the shower, hand quickly traveling between his thighs, fingers burying themselves into his still sensitive hole, fantasies of hungry glare and cruel fingers filling his mind.

[sodaabaa]

reunited a court of thorns and roses

rhysand x reader after reader is taken by tamlin, she yearns for the day she can be reunited with her mate.

tw: none

Five months. That’s how long I’d been trapped with Tamlin and his court of thorns. Once upon a time I was happy here, happy with him. Now, it took everything I had to control myself from scratching his eyes out every time he looked at me. Every word he said, every condescending explanation he gave me as to why he thought, why he believed that Rhys had manipulated my mind, drove me insane. Leaving this godforsaken place with Rhys all those months ago was the best decision I’d ever made. Now I was stuck here all over again. Caged in a rose covered prison, suffocated by piles of tulle and chiffon and silk.  

I hadn’t shown Tamlin, or anyone, any of the powers I had. I didn’t tell him what I was. Rhys and Amren had figured out that I was an angel. Centuries before the fae emerged, angels ruled the heavens and the Earth. Once the fae were created after years of evolution, the angels died out. But while the physical form of these beings may cease to exist, their souls don’t. Their souls are still here, roaming through the heavens. I guess the angels knew war was imminent in my lifetime so they breathed an angel’s soul into me when I was born and I’d gone all those years unknowing of what I was, what I was capable of. Until I had found out what Amarantha had done to Rhys. 

As if one cue, a piece of paper appeared on my nightstand with a coal black pen. 

“You’re thinking about me aren’t you” I could hear his arrogant smirk in those words.

I smiled, that bastard always knew, even if we were thousands of miles apart. I picked up the pen to write back but as I was doing so, the door opened and I quickly hid it under my pillow. My smile fell.

“I brought you some paints.” Tamlin paused, unsure of what to say next.

I merely looked out the window and said, “I have no inspiration.”

He frowned, “you’re in the Court of Spring, what more inspiration do you need?” 

The swirling night sky. The shimmering golden lights of the City of Starlight. His black, satin wings that carried the midnight sky with him. 

Oh, how sweet, your description of my city and my wings flatters me darling. 

I had to dig my nails into my palms to keep from smiling like a fool. 

Tamlin must have taken great offense to my comment, he left without giving me a chance to respond. Good. 

I anxiously pulled out the pen and paper. 

“He could have seen the note, be careful next time you prick.” 

I set the items on the desk and within seconds it vanished, and reappeared just as fast.

“I miss bickering with you. I miss you.” Such simple words yet my heart ached with longing.

I wrote back, “I miss you too. Just a few more days, I need to convince him to side with us.”

The paper vanished and never returned. 

I shifted in the bed I’d been in for hours, refusing to socialize with anyone at the manor. Everyone was blindly loyal to Tamlin and I knew if I left the manor grounds, they’d instantly report to him so I had no reason to even bother faking a smile towards those vipers. I looked out to the night sky, it wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the velvety blue skies of the Night Court but it was still a reminder of who ruled those skies and it comforted me regardless. With that thought, I fell into a deep sleep.

The voices of Tamlin and Lucien could be heard from a mile away. They were arguing over my freedom. I paused on the stairs, my blush pink dress swaying with the movement.

“How long are you going to keep her locked up hm? You can’t keep her here forever.” Lucien spat.

“Until Rhysand isn’t a problem anymore. Until I know he won’t come to take her again.” 

I rolled my eyes. Imagine being deluded enough to think you could beat Rhys, the most powerful High Lord in history. I scoffed. Their heads turned in my direction. I covered it by clearing my throat and smiling, resuming my path down the stairs.

“Good morning my love.” I held back a gag. 

Tamlin smiled, the fool really thought I was in love with him. “Good morning, we were just finishing up our conversation.” He shot a pointed look at Lucien. 

I smiled, lips in a thin line. He wanted to keep me locked up like a prisoner, still. 

I took a seat between Tamlin and Lucien. “Can we speak in private please Tamlin.” 

He gave me an exhausted look, he knew what I was going to ask. Despite that, he sent Lucien away with a wave of his hand. 

“I know what you want to say and you already know my answer.” He said.

I stood up and slammed my hands on the table, rattling the silverware.

“It’s been three months since I saw something outside these walls. Send an escort of guards with me if you want but let me go somewhere, anywhere.” I shouted.

He looked at me through his brows. “You know better than me, I could send an army of guards with you and Rhysand would slice through the brigade like butter to take you away. I won’t risk it.”

He was standing now, trying to intimidate me into compliance. 

“And I won’t be kept here like a prisoner! In what world is this love?”

“I’m protecting you!” He growled

“You’re suffocating me!” I yelled.

“Enough. There will be no further conversation about this matter.” 

I stilled. And then I felt it. I could sense him before he’d even arrived. I looked past Tamlin and to the doorway. 

Rhys. 

He was standing tall, his hands in his pockets, ever the nonchalant High Lord. His violet eyes looked over me head to toe, scanning for any signs of injuries. 

Tamlin must have noticed I was looking past him and turned. He moved to shield me, beginning to shift into a beast. I didn’t pay any attention to it. Every bone, every nerve, every cell in my body was shouting for me to run to him. So I did.

Tamlin shouted after me and guards ran in but they froze as soon as they ran into the room. It felt as if I’d been running for miles before I crashed into his chest, he stumbled back but his arms wrapped around me and lifted me up. My entire being relaxed into the embrace as I held him tight. 

“Miss me?” He breathed into my ear. 

Tears welled in my eyes as I nodded into his neck. He let me down just as Tamlin was approaching, rage burning in his eyes.

I stood in front of Rhys as Tamlin began charging. I crossed my arms and Tamlin met with a wall of light. He bounced back but got up instantly. Like twin flames, Rhys and I let out our wings, his midnight black wings contrasting with my soft white.

Tamlin froze, he hadn’t known about my abilities.

“What are you doing? He’s manipulating you, turning you against me.”

I scoffed. “You turned me against you.” 

“I love you.” He said in a not so loving tone. 

“Rhys loves me. And I him.” 

Unexpectedly, he shoved me away and lunged for Rhys who easily dodged his advances.

“You’ve gone soft Tamlin.” Rhys taunted. 

Tamlin lunged again, this time he managed to grab Rhys, who was unimpressed. 

“I’m going to skin you alive.” He said through his teeth.

Rhys merely rolled his eyes and looked at me as if to say, ‘look at this guy.’ 

Rhys grabbed Tamlins arms and twisted them, kneeing him in the gut and throwing him onto the floor all in one swift motion.

“You’re gonna have to try a lot harder to even land a punch, dear Tamlin.”

This time, Tamlin didn’t get back up. Rhys was holding him down with his mind. 

“We’ll spare your life on one condition.” I spoke to him. 

His nose flared, he’d rather die than submit to Rhys.

“You ally yourself and your army with us for the war. Hybern will slaughter your people and take your court as soon as the war is over and you know it. Don’t lead hundreds of innocent lives towards their death because of a grudge you hold towards Rhys.” I continued.

“I’d sooner die than work with him. And you. After all I did for you, traitor.” He spat.

I could feel the anger roll off Rhys. He stepped in front of me but I grabbed his arm.

“After all you did? After Amarantha, I was wasting away. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t breathe. And all you did was lock me up like a caged animal. You couldn’t even look at me longer than a second.” My voice rose.

“Do you know what the first thing Rhys did to me when he took me away on our wedding day?” I didn’t give him the time to respond.

“He looked at me, listened to me, he made me feel alive again. It’s ironic isn’t it? Living in the Spring Court where all bloom to life. Except me. I withered away like a dead rose. But I blossomed with Rhys at the Night Court, the realm of death so many call it, but it breathed life into me again.” 

Tamlin stared, blank. “Go to hell.” 

With that, I left the Manor and let Rhys have his fun. 

We landed in Velaris, my beloved City of Starlight. I was ecstatic and Rhys felt it as we walked up the steps to the town house. Home. The word kept repeating in my head, I still couldn’t believe it. 

When we walked in, we were greeted by Cassian, Mor, Azriel, and Amren. They kneeled as we stood in the doorway. 

My hand slipped from Rhys’ and I ran towards them, dropping to my knees. 

“Please don’t kneel. I just want a hug from each of you.” Tears fell from my eyes. I missed these four with my whole heart. Last I’d seen them, Cassian’s wings had been shattered, Azriel and Mor were bloody and bruised. I was worried sick. 

They all hugged me at once, I was squished in between the four of them. I let out a laugh as we withdrew from the group hug and Rhys chuckled behind me. 

“You bastards never react that way when I come home.” He walked towards us. 

Amren sent daggers at him with her eyes.

“Maybe we don’t like you as much Rhys.” Cassian said. 

“Then maybe you can find a place at the Court of Nightmares instead of Velaris, Cas. They’d be happy to take in an invalid such as yourself.” He threw. 

Cassian shook his head laughing. “You’d miss me too much.” 

The five of them began to bicker, their voices booming throughout the house. My eyes fleeted between them, trying to keep track of who was saying what. 

I smiled, It felt like I never left. 

[neverfearforiamhere]

POV: you’re an unsuspecting Magus completely unaware of what you’re getting into

[lovesickeros]

☆ love; heretical and divine

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 0.8k

To love a God is heretical. It is an act of blasphemy– it is to drag them down from their throne of hollow gold, to topple the pedestal the worshipers uphold on their shoulders like lambs at the herders heel. It is the act of forcing them to their knees and ripping that beating heart of glorious gold and beautiful, cruel divinity from their chest, so pure it burns.

To love a God is to make them sin. To make them painfully, horribly human.

To love a God is to sin.

The love of a worshiper is no love at all, brilliant in its raw purity, untainted by sin. It is fear and obedience masked by adoration so overpowering it corrupts. It makes the lamb so unquestioning in it's faith it will never question the knife that cuts, the teeth that rip, the claws that tear. If the Creator deemed them unworthy of the very life crafted by their hands, then they must have committed a sin so grave there lay no salvation for their horrid soul.

But she is no worshiper– her lips speak of heresy as easily as she breathes, her words nothing but lies, cold and cruel like the ice that crawls along her skin like webs.

She loves a God like a lover should.

A damned sinner reaching longingly for the heavens.

She loves a God in the subtle brush of their lips, their muffled voices behind closed doors as they indulge in curiosity untamed. She is a sinner through and through, but she feels herself fall further with every brush of her hand across their cheeks, every touch she bestows upon them like a lover. She memorizes the imperfections of their body like memorizing a map– every scar, every mark, every line drawn on their body like a canvas, her touch the brush that stains the pristine white.

No devoted lamb shall ever see the painting they create in these stolen moments– it is for the eyes of a heretic so vile it makes them shudder, their body dirtied by the love of a woman so vile even their divinity is obscured by the ice.

The lambs may be satisfied with fleeting glimpses of gold and empty words from lips that guide them to the jaws of the wolves, but she is not. Her hands crave them like a starving hound, aching to touch that imperfect skin hidden by the veil of gold that obscures the painfully human body beneath. She longs to free them from the golden cage that binds them– to see their wings blot out the sky, their divinity tainted by sin and making them all the more beautiful for it.

It is a longing that leaves a festering wound that cannot heal, will not heal. Even if it could, she would not let it.

For as much as she tries, deny it as she may, she is no better then the blind lambs following the herder who holds a blade in their hand, glittering like gold in the sun, stained by dull red.

She is a fool, and what a fool they make of her with the touch of their hands against her skin– so cold it leaves frost on their fingertips. Yet they do not fear the cold, mapping out every inch of her imperfections, carved into her body by her own hands.

She has always been a heretic, cursing the divine until she could speak no more, but if divinity can be found in them – in this love that consumes, that burns her hands and her lips – then she is a Saint, praying at the altar until her throat bled.

But in the end, she has and will always be a cold woman with hands stained with blood. Until it is all she can taste, until it is all she can smell, until it is all she can feel. These hands of hers, heretical and divine, will bleed the God from their veins– she will become the wolf to their lamb until the rivers of Teyvat run gold with their ichor, until the gold bleeds into red, the taste of their divinity on her tongue.

Until she drags a God from their lofty throne and makes of them a monster.

There is no greater triumph to the heretic then to love a God into sin. To make a God sin to love.

To love is to be human, and they are no God.

Even if she must tear the gold from their very being until all that's left is something human. Even if Teyvat crumbles and decays, even if it begins over and over again..

She will do it again and again, until the gold can bleed no longer. Until her sins grow too great for Teyvat to contain.

To love a God is to devour, and be devoured. An endless cycle of sin that dulls the glow of gold into something new– something horrifying and divine, in it's own right. Something just as horrid as her, just as divinely corrupted by the sins she carries on her shoulders like a trophy, as gold as the sun and as cold as ice.

Divinity, carved into something human by love all consuming, until it all bleeds away and they begin their dance anew, for as many cycles as it takes.

An eternity, if she must, of dooming this world of theirs to fire and decay for a glimpse of the being snared by their golden shackles.

[mable-stitchpunk]

Anymore adventures planned for Lure?

As a matter of fact, yes! 8D I'm working on a third book now- A Lost Fool's Paradise- its just been slowed down by work. Still getting into it though! Thank you for asking. ^_^

[val-cansalute]

summary: - a prologue of sorts - you and ellie will never be the same. the words you exchange are so deep seated and visceral, an accumulation of all the hurt. hers are telling; the love she gives is nothing like yours, nowhere near as intense, nowhere near as desperate. she’s closed off to you, and she may never be open again. she’s leaving town before it is even given a proper ending, to go on tour now that her music career is taking off. this is the end. at least for a few years.

warnings: not rlly proofread bc i ball too hard, angst with no comfort yet, dw it’ll come, ellie is dealing with trauma, references to sex.

an: every now and then i remember that alcohol exists but then i drink it and remember why i didnt drink it for ages. i hate alcohol. this shit is reaaaaally short cuz it’s just some context for the main story. it’s not really necessary to read but i wrote it anyway just because. unfortunately for me, bc whenever i start a story i get rlly anxious until its over, the next one prolly won’t be coming for a while since im gonna be travelling for a bit and i got quite a lot of stuff going on: love you guys, stay safe, never stop talking about palestine. do your clicks. :-)

masterlist

When you first saw Ellie, there were embers in her eyes - front of the pub, she didn’t even need a stage as she sang her heart out. Her captivating nature was enough to elevate her. Everyone else in the room faded to grey in the background, nothing more than a lively buzz punctuating the atmosphere. You were enraptured.

And she was too.

Hesitant glances from across the room at the same time each week, the music and the feeling was electric. The flush of her cheeks melted into the splotches of red from the sweltering heat each time she met your eyes. You sat on that same barstool; she stood in that same spotlight.

And when you started seeing each other, there were so many moments where you felt like your love for her was uncontainable. It spewed out of your pores and overwhelmed your senses every time she was near, even in spite of her soft and reserved demeanour.

It had a hold on you. Each time your lips met, it always became visceral for you, slow and sensual movements transforming into borderline aggression, tongue desperately searching her insides and tearing all the petals off the rose that was in her mouth. You wanted to consume her, suck her up and hold her in the comfort of your rib cage. She was everything to you.

And she was bound to fame. You knew it would come. She was made of stardust, and an aura so golden it would burst if confined in small town pubs any longer.

Sometimes, you gently trace the ridged edges of the polaroid pinned to your wall and feel a pool of warmth gather inside you at the feeling of familiarity her younger face brings. Her face, back then when her eyes seemed greener, her cheeks seemed fuller, her voice seemed clearer. It’s a sick feeling: nostalgia, remembering the way your intensity felt and what it has become.

If you stare too long, you’ll watch the grainy photograph melt and churn, the hues of her skin becoming duller and sunken inwards.

The house is quiet. It’s a silence so dense, you’re almost fooled into thinking Ellie isn’t home. But she is. She’s there, like a ghost lingering in the cracks of your walls.

It feels cold, with a lingering scent of whiskey and a heavy silence that creaks in the hollows of your ears, even for the weeks at a time that Ellie is home.

Maybe it’s a sick thought to have about the woman you would give up your life for, who you would do anything for, who you love more than anything in the world millions of times over, but you prefer it when there’s a distance between the two of you these days. Playing into that constant facade of everything being okay drains you of all your worth and for no return. Ellie gave up on it a while back. It’s just you prancing away solo on that stage now, like some jester.

You’ve become a slave to it, lost yourself out at sea trying desperately to make things okay, whatever that means. She'll never talk to you about it. There’s only scraps left to hide but she clings to them like they’re her lifeblood, tearing them away from you as if you’re just some stranger. Some stranger who watches her crumble to pieces and put herself back together, like she’s a damn mix and match, each time the memories come back to surface in her mind. You beg for more, for crumbs of her resolve but she’s gone. Not coming back.

Nothing has been okay. Nothing has ever been the same since Joel died. Ellie has never been the same. That day, he left and took a piece of her with him. A piece you know you’ll never get back.

There’s no room for argument, what is between the two of you is like glue that barely sticks, so you keep yourself deathly still and hold your breath with a pounding heart and complete desperation, not wanting to ruin anything further. But there’s so much you have to say, and no time to say it.

Instead, you watch her pull further away, see her eyes become duller, notice her absence get longer, feel the sex get colder, watch everything warp and twist and writhe until you’re beyond the point of no return. Until you’re not sure you trust her, or yourself, or the concept of anyone truly loving you the animalistic and self destructive way you loved them at any point in time.

It’s lonely on that island, watching her drift away, the person you thought completed you, she felt incomplete regardless of your presence.

You know the glue has faded when she turns to face you from the foot of the bed, looking so far away as she speaks.

"What? You're moving to LA?" She looks down at the fingers she’s twiddling, and takes a deep breath before continuing.

"Yeah, Max said it wa-"

"Well, how long?" You cut her off, already rising from the bed and moving closer. She meets your eyes but the look she gives doesn’t satiate your anxiety in any way, despite how you beg it to.

"... About that, we were thinking it might be… indefinite for now..."

Your heart stills in your chest and the blood rushes from your head. She can’t even look at you.

"Ellie. What the fuck… How are you just gonna dump this on me now? W-what about us? What are we gonna do? I already barely see you anymore,"

"I... I'm sorry but, I gotta do this. You know I do, if I'm gonna make a caree-"

Desperation takes over, your palms quivering erratically beneath you,

"Ellie… I know you care about your career, but, God, we've been together for so long. I love you so much, please don't do this to me,"

She raises her gaze to the ceiling and forces the lump down the dry, tight hollow of her throat,

"It's not forever, babe, I’ll come home.”

But you’re already shaking your head in dismissal of her blatantly dishonest words,

"You and I both know that that is not true. You’ve been desperate to go since it happened and I know I’m just an obstacle now.“

"That’s… That’s not true. I really can’t do this right now."

"You never can. And it’s because I fucking know you're not coming back, Ellie! And I'm not gonna sit around, waiting for you to call, only ever hearing about you through other people when we’ve been together for so many fucking years! I want you to be happy more than anything-“

"We can call.”

"But you fucking won't! And you're always drunk! You need to talk to me, Ellie, we're never gonna be okay if you don't!”

“I can’t be okay when I’m trapped here! All I can think about is him! I don’t eat, I don’t sleep!”

"But this isn’t gonna make anything better! We have something here! We said we would start a family together, Ellie… LA; you would never have wanted this… Okay? Joel would never have wanted this!"

She gets up and turns without a second thought at the sound of his name and your blood pressure spikes in complete desperation.

"Ellie, Ellie, please. I'm sorry. We can work through this, I promi-"

“I have to go.”

“No, you don’t! You aren’t being fair! You shut me out! You shut everyone out! I’ve been trying so fucking hard!"

"I know, and I’m fucking sorry, but I can't stay here, there's nothing left for me! I love you-"

Your voice is quiet and quivers with emotion that lulls her in, begging her to see that you need her - that she has always come first to you even if you’ve become secondary to her,

"Then prove it. Stay."

But her mind is already made up.

"… I can’t…”

You’re shaking your head,

“I have to do this.”

No, this is seriously the end.

“I'll come home."

You stop shaking your head and look at her.

“No. I can't wait around for you, Ellie, not when we’re like this. If you do this, it's over."

"That's up to you."

The rest of the night seems blurry to you. A deep despair festers to the brim of your skull. You can’t bring yourself to move once she’s gone, can’t bring your mind to calm itself down.

But once you do, the house is plunged into the darkness you encounter. The weight of Ellie still hangs thick in the air and lingers like a whine in the creaks of cold floorboards. As you leave the house you shared with Ellie, you pass through each room, switching the light on and then off, from top till the bottom, until you reach the last.

Click,

and then you leave, once and for all.

Pass round the bend and then by the sea. Watch the waves rise and then crash into each other, right where Ellie used to plant her feet beside you.

more pics of my cat bc she’s just so adorable 😩

[saionjeans]

ok so. miki’s sunlit garden is the literal sunlit garden where he and kozue played piano together as children. it’s the defining version of this narrative device, and in a way, it’s the most straightforward. miki is leaving the garden and entering the world of teenagers. he is scared of growing up, and he misses the effortless, uncomplicated bond he shared with his sister when they were children, before being inculcated into a world of sexual power and abuse, before his parents divorced and his beautiful nuclear family was rent asunder by real-world complications. i genuinely think every 13-ish year old goes through this grief and a desire to hold onto the past, to remain in this perfect nostalgic bubble through which you view your childhood. it’s probably the most universal and identifiable instance of the motif of the sunlit garden.

then it gets more complicated. nanami’s sunlit garden is her memories of short-haired touga, of her big brother showing her his affection, making her feel special, worthy, and loved. but unlike miki, she doesn’t miss being a part of the ideal nuclear family. for one thing, both she and touga are adopted. of course, she doesn’t actually know that, but it nonetheless problematizes the bioessentialist logic upon which the nuclear family [abuse factory] structure is predicated. secondly, it’s clear that she was always the scapegoat to touga’s golden child. which is why it’s not that she loves her sibling as an extension of her childhood nostalgia, but that her entire value system fundamentally revolves around touga, because he was the only person in her formative years who ever showed her the slightest sliver of affection. and in all her memories of him, he has short hair (like dios, like miki), because subconsciously she doesn’t even want him to be her Prince, her patriarchal savior, she wanted him to be someone who loved her because she inherently deserves love. she does treat him like her prince in the present, but that’s only because it’s how her love for him must take form in ohtori. deep down, she doesn’t want a prince, a lover, or even a brother; she wants a friend who will love her for nothing. but she has no way of expressing that, not in a world that claims true friendship is for fools. so instead she values him for their biological ties, for his status as a kiryuu, for his patriarchal role as the eldest son in their perfect nuclear family. and she refuses to acknowledge how she demeans herself in the process of worshipping him, how she’ll drown herself and cook herself and cage herself, debase herself and dehumanize herself for his illusory love. and that is what the sunlit garden means to nanami.

as for saionji, the sunlit garden also constitutes his memories with touga, of a “before” that is much more definable in the sense that there is clearly a moment where it becomes “after.” one day they are riding their bike through the rain after kendo practice, and they decide to take shelter in a church. and saionji sees touga become someone he fears and also envies. someone who wields the power to project something eternal, to inspire, to save. and he exerts his power in a subtly violent way, by transgressing invisible boundaries. saionji cannot harness that power, so he attempts to exert it clumsily, through immediate, obvious, physical forms of violence. it never quite packs the same punch as touga’s manipulation, no matter how hard he tries. but what saionji really longs for is not to possess touga’s power, but to go back to the way things were before touga decided he wanted power. touga thinks true friendship is for fools, but like nanami, all saionji wants is to be touga’s true friend. and isn’t that just tragic?

of course, that’s not all saionji wants. but his desire is complicated by the fact that he clearly also resents the sexual acts he is being put through by touga, even if in other circumstances, it could be what he wanted. juri’s situation, her sunlit garden, is similar to saionji’s in this respect. all she wants is shiori, but she doesn’t want the shiori she is being presented with. she wants the shiori from an illusory idealized past in which they were true friends, before shiori betrayed her and revealed her ugly feelings in the process. like miki with kozue, nanami and saionji with touga, utena and anthy with dios, mikage with mamiya, juri is idealizing a version of the object of her affection who never really existed. shiori’s ugly feelings were always latent. unlike miki’s sunlit garden, nanami’s flashback to touga’s party and sea of photographs, or saionji’s memories of touga tenderly wrapping his hand, juri does not even have memories of shiori that are not defined by her betrayal. yes she has shiori reaching out, holding a rose, saying “believe in miracles and they will know your heart,” but it’s an obvious fiction. juri doesn’t know shiori at all, and the shiori juri knows is not the shiori she loves. the sunlit garden is always a garden of illusion.

utena’s sunlit garden, which opens many episodes, is perhaps the most obvious example of this fact. she completely rewrote her own formative memory to better suit the dominant patriarchal narratives she was forced to adopt all her life. and you can say that akio actively tampered with her memories, but functionally speaking, that’s the same thing. even more so than the others, her sunlit garden is a palimpsest; she idealizes a past and a prince that never actually existed. sure akio and anthy exist, but her “prince” is not either of them. the locus of her will to live, that eternal thing, is a fiction. but her desire to help others in need is genuine. and that is what differentiates utena’s sunlit garden first and foremost. it is not founded on a selfish desire to cling to a perfect past of illusion, but on the selfless desire to keep moving forward in hopes of a better future. they all want to hold onto something eternal, including utena in her desire to keep her parents with her, and all of those desires are perfectly understandable and eminently sympathetic, but utena is different because that day that akio showed her anthy’s suffering, utena’s desire shifted from a memory to a telos.

mikage’s sunlit garden thus becomes a cautionary tale to all the members of the student council who wish to live in a memory, perfectly suspended, pinned in place like a butterfly on display. just as a caterpillar must become a butterfly, a child must enter the world of adults. mamiya is beautiful because he has the luxury of dying young, of being immortalized on a carousel, of never losing his innocence. mikage is what happens to people who idealize eternity through escaping into nostalgia. the world keeps moving on without them, and they become ghosts, trapped in a past that no one can recall.

so what of akio? he uses people’s sunlit gardens against them, he manipulates time and memory, feeds off nostalgia and the grief of lost childhood. he cultivates his garden to resemble golden days, and as he invites you through his gates, ensnares you. so what does that mean, when his goal, too, is to achieve eternity? above all he wants to forge a sword that will break through the closed gates and reinstate his former glory. of anyone in ohtori, he is the one most deeply entrenched in his oh so cozy coffin. for all that he knows his promises to be illusory, he also clings to that logic, he also mourns dios. he longs for his golden days despite knowing that they’re untenable, despite being well aware of the toll it took on anthy. and even fully aware of the extent of his exploitation, of the fundamental illusion of eternity, he still attempts to attain it, he still instantiates himself in a cycle on the carousel, condemned to ghosthood, a butterfly pinned in place.

finally, we must look to the absent figure, the outlier. what, or rather who, is touga’s sunlit garden? the movie tells us it is utena, that he embodied the princely role in the truest sense and that this is his deepest aspiration. but i don’t know if that’s necessarily how i read him. anthy and touga are foils, two sides of the same coin. anthy doesn’t have a “sunlit garden” per se, because she has long given up on the idea of returning to a time when she loved dios, before the swords of hatred pierced her heart. but she has a literal sunlit garden, and her role is to tend the flowers in it and never leave. she has a literal coffin, guarded carefully in the chambers of her heart. anthy knows better than to cling to an idealized past, but still, she cannot find a way to move forward. so she gets stuck in a circular present, where both past and future are illusory concepts. it is not enough to simply know that the past is gone, one must also strive for a better future. it is why utena and anthy’s promise to drink tea and laugh together in ten years is just so powerful within ohtori’s timeless walls. i’d bet anything that touga also doesn’t have an idealized past. if, again, we use the movie to inform our understanding of him, he was always aware of the abuse that pervaded his world, he was never an innocent. but instead of desiring reform, like utena, of wanting to save those suffering, he wants to be the one inflicting that suffering as much as possible. to cope, he accepts his abuse as a necessary consequence of existence, and assumes that anyone capable of abusing him is simply more powerful, and thus deserves to exert their power over him, just as he deserves to exert his power over those less powerful than he is. so like anthy, he doesn’t have a sunlit garden, but he has a coffin, and a garden, and a carousel. and like anthy, he must choose for himself whether he wishes to remain a complicit victim, or to leave his cozy coffin and find a way to move forward. and that, only time can tell.

[zeciex]

A Vow of Blood Masterlist

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Updates every Friday: A work in progress

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Chapter 1: A prophecy foretold Chapter 2: Fireflies and Funerals Chapter 3: A debt made Chapter 4: The Arrival Chapter 5: The girl who leaves, the Woman whom returns Chapter 6: The unholiness of burning Chapter 7: Gossip and Needlepoint Chapter 8: Schemes and Artisans Chapter 9: The Feast Chapter 10: Beware the Blood Red Roses Thorns

Chapter 11: Words of a Scandal Chapter 12: The Whore that Lies Chapter 13: On Your Knees Chapter 14: From the Shadows Chapter 15: White Poppies Chapter 16: The Tourney; The Joust Chapter 17: The Tourney; The Melee Chapter 18: Ruination Chapter 19: Tea & Charity

Chapter 20: Sympathies for Maegor the Cruel Chapter 21: Moon Flower Chapter 22: The Ugly Seat Chapter 23: A Woman's Shame Chapter 24: The Boy With the Stars Chapter 25: The Seafarer Chapter 26: Dragonstone Chapter 27: Betrothal Chapter 28: The Sting of Bitter Betrayal Chapter 29: Little Nightshade

Chapter 30: In That House On Top Of The Rock Chapter 31: The Stranger's Company Chapter 32: The Hunt Chapter 33: Brōzi, riña hen narys Chapter 34: There's no measure 'within reason' for women Chapter 35: Pulling the Strings Chapter 36: Boris Baratheon Chapter 37: The Image of a son Chapter 38: Wine and Company Chapter 39: Once in Ivory, to the sound of bells

Chapter 40: Trapped like a Fox Chapter 41: The illusion of choice Chapter 42: Two sinners can't atone from a lone prayer Chapter 43: The Depravity of Desire Chapter 44: Think of the Stars Chapter 45: Blood in the Water Chapter 46: The Boundaries of a Winged Pig Chapter 47: The Vigil of the Old Gods Chapter 48: The Stag that Rages Chapter 49: The Stag hunts the Stag

Chapter 50: The Performance of Grief Chapter 51: Once in front of the fire, two become one Chapter 52: The Funeral of Boris Baratheon Chapter 53: The Hunger of Man Chapter 54: The Funeral Procession Chapter 55: Keeping Alliances Chapter 56: Souls tied, intertwined by our pride and guilt Chapter 57: Wisps of Smoke Chapter 58: A Missive of Ravens Chapter 59: A Claim of Bastardry

Chapter 60: The Last Supper Chapter 61: The Taste of Silence Chapter 62: Waves Chapter 63: In the Eye of the Father Chapter 64: The End of a Noose Chapter 65: A Fool with a Fool's Honor Chapter 66: The Son of Duty Chapter 67: The Daughter of Insolence Chapter 68: The Tempest of a Woman Chapter 69: Birds in a Cage

Chapter 70: The Beast Beneath the Boards Chapter 71: The Tower of the Hand Chapter 72: Ill Tidings Chapter 73: A Woman's War Chapter 74: Salt and Smoke Chapter 75: A Golden Crown of Sorrow pt. 1 Chapter 76: A Golden Crown of Sorrow pt. 2 Chapter 77: Haunted By The Daylight Chapter 78: A Boy And His Dragon Chapter 79: Vengeance Hungers

Chapter 80: The Bloody Hand of Dread Chapter 81: The Fool That Loved You Chapter 82: The Coward's Heart Chapter 83: A Sister's Rage Chapter 84: Coming Friday the 14th

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Vow of Blood: An uncanon oneshot; The Wooden Cock The wooden cock, pt. 2

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